The Love of God
by CindyChamiAngel
Summary: Chuck falls in love


The Love of God

Oh, Cecilia

You're breaking my heart

You're shaking my confidence daily

Oh, Cecilia

I'm down on my knees

I'm begging you please to come home.

* * *

Humans are transient. No one know this better then me. After all, I made them. Carver Edlund, Unpublished manuscript, Title – Chronicle

* * *

It was, of course, a dark and stormy night. The books were almost done and he was trying to figure out what to do next. Maybe he had put too much of himself into humans. Or maybe he had become too involved and was taking on their character traits, but he felt unsure, unhappy... like a failure.

It was depression, of course. He'd thought that a master stroke at the time, a perfect balance for elation, but, in retrospect he'd made a lot of really horrible things, hadn't he? It's easy to set up trials for things you have no empathy for. And perhaps stupid to strive with empathy for them later.

There was a knock on the door. It took a moment for him to figure out what it was, it happened so infrequently and he knew he hadn't ordered any pizza. For a moment there was a longing for company, he missed even that sniveling dufus Metatron.

The knock occurred again, even more insistent this time.

He put down the bourbon he'd been contemplating and rose, went to the door, suddenly curious and a little... excited.

He pulled open the door and his heart fluttered. There, drenched in the torrential rain, huddled under a hastily grabbed pink raincoat was a woman with the biggest, bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Words took a moment to stir and he stammered when he finally spoke.

"Can I help you?" He asked. His voice sounded raspy and unused.

"I'm Cecilia, your neighbor. I was coming back from the farmer's market, which got rained out and I noticed your window was open and the rain was pouring in...would you like some carrots?" She motioned to the window of his study.

Again it took a moment for his brain to register, but there were key words. Rain, window... something about carrots. His mind roared back to the study window and the delicate parchments sitting on the table underneath it.

"Shit." He muttered and charged back into the house. The parchment was soaked and the curtains blowing in the howling wind. Lightening stuck just them to accent the moment. He went over and slammed down the window, retrieved the parchments - an original copy of Constantine's bible and dried them with a thought. He shoved them in a drawer and became conscious of someone behind him. He turned.

It was her, looking small and fragile in the doorway, soaked to the skin and trembling, but with a look of concern on her face. Concern for him.

He turned and forced a smile.

"I'm sorry for just walking in, but I was worried. Are you ok?" She asked.

"Yeah fine. Nothing important damaged. So, Thanks." He stuttered. He walked over and reached out to touch her shoulder, escort her out.

And then he smelled her. Her cologne was so unique, tones of vanilla and cinnamon, a little lavender. He'd smelled it before. It reminded him of the fifth heaven, one of his favorite places in the universe.

"Oh, well, as long as everything is ok... oh! Carrots? I got a ton of them and they will just go to waste, but the woman who grows them is barely making ends meet and needs the money..."

He stopped suddenly. "Would you like a drink? You're soaked to the skin and you're going to catch your death." He said. Something ominous rang in his head.

"Well, that would be nice. It's been a rough day." She smiled.

He made a subtle correction of his hand on her shoulder and steered her into the living room.

* * *

"I love this room." She was saying as she sipped at her third glass of white wine. "It feels so...safe. Like you're wrapped in the arms of God!" The last part seemed a quote.

He chuckled at the irony. "Were is that quote from?"

"A poem written by one of my patients. I'm a counselor. I think the whole couplet is something like "And in our last moments It's like we're wrapped in the arms of God."

"He was dying." Chuck said. He knew, of course, now that she had brought it to mind. Remembered the tortured, delicate soul.

"Yes." A little pain flashed across her face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"No, it's fine. I just deal with death too much, I think."

"You're a hospice counselor." He said and she nodded, the bright smile once again springing to her elfin face.

"You are a good guesser." He shrugged. "What do you do?"

"Oh, it seems boring by compare. I'm a writer of schlock horror." He said.

"Oh a writer, that sounds amazing!" There was so much enthusiasm in her voice. She looked at him like he was the most wonderful person in the universe.

"Not as glamorous as you'd think." He offered, humbly.

"I bet there are all kinds of amazing worlds in your head."

"You could say that." He offered.

"The Hindus believe God dreams the world." She said suddenly. Her eyes took on this dreamy, far off look. He was transported to thoughts of her standing before the Taj, elephants trumpeting in the background and that mystical, childlike smile crossing her face.

"I'd heard that. India is a wonderful place."

"Oh, have you been there?" Again, he felt so special in her eyes.

"Yeah, once or twice. I've been just about everywhere." He offered.

"I want to travel the whole world. I want to see everything." She said, descending into that marvelous dream world. And suddenly he would do anything to make her dream happen. Then he realized it.

Chuck was falling in love.

* * *

It was really late and they had talked about everything, life, travel, book reviewers and the peaceful look in the face of the dying. He had studied her every expression and movement with more care then he had created the platypus – his favorite animal. He had committed her to memory.

"So, what is your favorite place?" She asked.

"Jerusalem. It's the center of the Universe, or so that say." He replied. His bourbon was untouched for the first night in as many as he cared to remember.

"Yes. I want to sit atop a roof and eat bagels as the sun comes up there."

"You can make the most mundane things sound dreamlike." He uttered.

"Maybe I'm secretly a writer and I picked the wrong job." She chided.

"No, you have the right job. You're compassionate, kind and comforting."

"My boss says God made me for this work." She replied.

"The Universe makes itself these days." he replied.

"Are you an atheist?" She asked and he laughed out loud.

"No, I believe in God, I just don't like him very much these days." he replied and felt his hand go to the glass of bourbon.

"I'm not really religious, but I do have a couple of thoughts on the subject. God made us, gave us the tools to make our way and then, apparently left. But parents do, don't they? They raise their kids and then let them go off and be adults themselves. It's our job to be good people. Why doesn't God cure cancer? He gave us the intelligence to do it ourselves. Why did he make it in the first place? What is light without darkness? What is the indomitable spirit of man without something to over come?"

He nodded and his hand moved away from the glass. "What if he didn't leave? What if he just gave up?"

"Then maybe he needs us, too." She replied. She leaned over and touched his hand and his head swam with the desire to lean over and kiss her. He froze as she put her hand on his, soft and warm and comforting.

Her eyes darted behind him and grew wide.

"Look at the time. It's after one and I have to work tomorrow. I'm so sorry, Chuck. Maybe we can do this again some time?" She asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow? I'll make dinner. Bagels and sunset." He offered.

She nodded. "I'll be here at 5:30 so we don't miss a thing." She said as they walked to the door.

He pulled it open and the deluge had not lessened. She sighed. "I hate getting wet. I'm like a cat." She said with a grin.

And suddenly, the rain stopped. "A miracle!" She said. Chuck smiled and impulsively, she dotted his cheek with a kiss.

And then she ran off into the dark, damp night.

Chuck returned to his study. "What do you want?" He said to the darkness. A reaper stepped out of the corner.

"I wouldn't fall in love, if I were you." The reaper said, a sick little grin on it face.

"Where were you an hour ago?" He asked it, no humor in his voice.

"Oh, too late am I? Well, maybe now you'll get a taste." It replied.

"Watch your tone with me. And what the hell does that mean?"

"You make all this stuff and let the rest of us live with it, but you never live with it yourself. Death is pain, Lord. And I have spent eons bathed in it. You sit here and write your little books and never lose anything..." The reaper said, more then a little disrespect in it's voice.

"Enough," He said and raised his hand to banish the foul creature.

"Fine." It said, staying his hand. "I have work to do anyway." It vanished and it took just the beat of a heart for Chuck to understand the meaning. He charged out of his house into the rain that had resumed as soon as she had entered her house.

* * *

He leapt a fence and landed in her yard and then, with three great leaps landed on her porch. The reaper was there, grinning. "Too late, boss." It smiled and he heard the tiny click of a switch on a gas water heater. He smelled a wisp of gas.

He banged furiously on the door.

"Three!" the reaper said with vicious joy.

She pulled the door open and without hesitation, Chuck grabbed her and pulled her off the porch and down the walk.

"Two!" The reaper shrieked, still chuckling.

In a moment of desperation, Chuck covered her with his own body.

"Boom!" The reaper called out and the house blew into a million pieces. Fire leaped into the air and cars turned over. Collateral damage rippled with the heat wave down the block in both directions, ripping the gingerbread off his own house and burning trees and gardens half a block away.

And then came the rain, debris showered down, from tiny pieces of wood shard to a refrigerator. He held her close and focused on her heart beat.

Then, silence. He looked up and saw the reaper scowling. It would be back. He had made them nothing if not tenacious.

* * *

The next day, I somehow convinced her to come away with me. I guess it's a skill. I talked Moses into going into Egypt and he really didn't want to. So it wasn't a problem convinced a girl from Missouri to travel the world with a famous writer. To live a dream.

It was perfect. Well, almost. There was another traveler with us. A dark one. Her reaper.

Carver Edlund, Unpublished Manuscript, title Chronicle

* * *

India was amazing. He'd been there before, a million times or more, but somehow it was different. He was seeing it through her eyes and everything was new and magic.

She stood in front of the Taj, just like his mind's picture that first night. She wore a blue dress and was smiling madly. People in colorful silks moved around her and in the back a monument to one man's love.

He couldn't help it, he moved over and took her in his arms.

"I wish you could make love to me right here." She sighed in his ear and his whole body erupted into a fire of passion.

"I could, but we'd scare the elephants." He whispered back and nibbled her ear.

"I love you." She said, suddenly. It was the first time, but it lifted in him a recollection of a feeling so old he could barely remember it. The joy of beginnings. He kissed her.

"I love you too." He said back. They had been together for three months. Three perfect months.

"So, want to go for Paneer and naan?" He asked.

"Tell me a story." She said. It was a litany. She made him feel like Ovid when she said that. Brilliant and timeless.

"About India?" He asked.

"About you," She said.

He sat down on a bench and pulled her into his lap.

"Once God met a man. A really awesome man. His name was Moses. See, Moses was the first guy who ever argued with him and that really interested God. So, God sent Moses to free the Jews. Moses did as he was told, but he argued every step of the way.

He made God think. And God started to question everything, even himself. Creation, Death, Life. God thought maybe his sister had been right destroying worlds."

"God had a sister?" She asked.

"Oh, yes. She was very wicked. She kept breaking his toys. Anyway. Moses. Moses did everything God asked him to. But more then that, they became friends. God had never had a friend before. I mean a real friend. Moses would tell God when he was being a jerk. At first, God hated that, but the more they got to know each other, God started to count on Moses to direct him. It became mutual, you know?

God got used to leaning on Moses. And so one day a reaper came to God and reminding him that Moses was going to have to die. Like that day."

"What happened?" She asked. looking rapt at his story.

"The universe has rules that not even God can break. At least not for very long. So God told Moses."

"I bet he didn't take it well." She said.

"Not at all. He was angry. They had just got to the Promised land. So, God took him to the top of a mountain and showed him the Promised land. And for three days, they argued. Moses was sure God could get him out of it. But he couldn't. Rules. And back then, death was death.

Finally, God cried. His heart was breaking, you see. And Moses relented and he died. "

"And what did God do?"

"He buried his friend." Chuck finished. The pain was fresh and his eyes grew misty and he buried his face in her shoulder. He sniffed and looked back up at her.

He didn't see the judgment or anger there. Just compassion. Just love.

"I know it's a metaphor for something." She said. "Thank you." She added.

"For what?"

"Giving me a little piece of you."

He kissed her then, deeply. Over he shoulder her saw the reaper, watching.

* * *

At the shores of the Ganges he clutched her close to him. Reapers surrounded them like a murder of crows, picking at the carrion of these waters of death.

Not even bacteria grows in the Ganges. That is why it is worshiped.

A funeral pyre wandered past, the deceased and her reaper walking this path one last time, arm in arm, friends.

"They have a different take on death." She murmured and he pulled her even closer.

"They're closer then most." He replied.

He felt her body vibrate with soft laughter.

All the reapers bowed as they passed him. He was glad she couldn't see. He liked being just Chuck. He was finally figuring out how to just exist. He didn't want fawning supernatural creatures to change her view of him.

"She will have to go." Someone said behind him. He knew the voice, the smell.

With a bat of his eyelashes, the scene froze, all but him and his new companion. He let her go and turned to face him.

"Hello, old friend." Chuck said.

"Don't old friend me," Death replied. " I let you get away with the Winchesters because I know how important they are to the cosmic fabric. This, however..."

"I love her. I gave you Moses." He replied.

"Yes, you did the math and decided you wanted your toy more then your friend. You still feel that guilt, don't you, old friend?"

Chuck looked away. "I betrayed him."

"I can't judge you on that, I'd have done the same. But onto the real subject here. You cannot put me off indefinitely. I am inevitable to all things. Even you. I don't see what the problem is. You could just go home and be..." Chuck's face gave him away. "Oh, you can't go home? Why ever not?"

"Because if I do, it will set the whole plan back eons, and this is too important. We're changing things here, Death. Making them better..."

"Fixing your screw up?"

"I was young. Creative."

"Careless. Didn't anyone ever tell you there are consequences?"

"You, every time we meet."

"Well, well, well. It seems you keep bringing yourself to this impasse. I will have her and in good time, or I will tear down creation. I will give you time, my old friend. Because I do care for you. We are friends, regardless of our disputes. But next time a reaper comes, it's done. I don't want to war with you, Iam. Not at this critical juncture..."

Chuck nodded, annoyed by the use of one of his old names. He glared at Death.

"How long?" He asked, his teeth clenched.

"Oh, no one knows when I am coming. How was it you put it? I am a thief in the night? You know, you should ignore your critics. You really do have a way with words."

The world moved again and he felt her reach for him, pull him close. He smiled and wrapped her up and breathed her in.

* * *

There were more reapers here then he had ever seen in one place. Death was playing hardball.

But still Jerusalem was his favorite place anywhere. The smell of humanity and spice and the ancient dust of his youth. He leaned back and took another bite of his bagel, sipped the dark, black coffee.

She was leaning against him, watching the sunrise.

This was the end, he knew. The last stop. He would have to choose. The woman he loved or the world he created.

Chuck didn't know why Death had made these rules, but he knew Death was the one creature he probably aught not cross. He'd cheated him a time or two, managed to save some souls. Creation was much more complicated then anyone wanted to admit.

He leaned over and kissed him. "Penny for your thoughts."

"Jerusalem is bitter sweet for me." He replied.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known..."

"No, I wouldn't rather be anywhere else." He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "Eat and orange." He added and handed her an orange from the table.

He saw Death at the top of the stairs. He pulled away from her and stood. "I'll be back." He offered and followed Death into the street.

They walked in amiable silence for a while.

"Have you decided?" Death finally asked.

"There was never a debate." Chuck replied.

"Why are you so attached to all of this? I mean, the pain, the sorrow, to lies. These creatures are at best despicable. I will never understand your fascination with them. Sure, find one or two worth salvaging, but really..."

"I'm creation. It's what I do. You see all the bad, but there is a lot of good here, too. They figure things out and change and someday, something great will happen." Chuck offered.

"So you will give up the love of your life for the chance that these monkeys will someday write the works of Shakespeare on a typewriter?"

Chuck turned to Death then. "Death. They already have." He said. "Let me talk to her." He said.

"Keep it brief. Two days is a long time."

"No it isn't. Jerk." Chuck turned and walked back to the apartment where she was waiting.

* * *

She stood when he entered, pensive. His presences seemed to give her some deep comfort and whenever he returned, it was as if she was made whole again. He loved that.

"We...have to talk." He said.

"OK," she said, darkly and sat.

"You know I love you, right?"

She nodded, waiting for the bad news.

"My name isn't Chuck. I mean, it is, but it's only one of a billion names I have. I'm God." He said. She looked at him Blankly. "Really. Creator of the Universe. God of Abraham and Moses, Krishna..."

He face fell. He sighed.

"I can prove it."He walked over and took her hand. A moment later they were standing on the summit of Mount Sinai. She breathed in deeply. Again, he nodded and they stood on the Great Wall of China.

"You're... You're..."

"Yeah. It's a long, complicated story. And we don't have time. It's time, Cecilia."

"Time for..." She began, lost in the mass of reality she had just had dumped on her.

"You have to die." He said.

"Oh," She breathed. "So, we can be together in Heaven or whatever?"

"I can't go back, I'm in the middle of something. I don't know when I can go back. But I swear to you, you will be in Paradise."

"I can't imagine a Paradise without my Chuck." She offered. She looked truly sad and for just the flicker of an instant he regretted, almost changed his mind, but no, his resolve was strong.

"Someday. Hey, you're my girl." He said and she forced a smile.

"So, now what?" She asked.

Death appeared behind them. "I will take her personally." He said to Chuck. Chuck nodded.

"My house." He offered and looked away from them.

"But of course." Death replied.

She went to him and hugged him. "I love you forever." She whispered.

"I love you for much longer then that." he replied and kissed her one more time. "Go." he said, his voice a rasp of sandpaper.

And they were gone.

And Chuck wept.

* * *

Humans are transient. No one know this better then me. After all, I made them. They are capable of the highest highs and the lowest lows. They love and they sin and they live. They are my children and I see more and more of myself in them every day. Every once and a while, one of them really gets under your skin. Every once and a while, one of them teaches you something. One of them makes you cry. And that makes it all worth it.

Carver Edlund – Unpublished manuscript – Title – Chronicle.

* * *

Would you know my name

If I saw you in Heaven

Would it be the same

If I saw you in Heaven

I must be strong

And carry on

Cause I know I don't belong

Here in Heaven.

Eric Clapton, Tears in Heaven


End file.
